Red Hand of Doom by the GeminiGM

Fall of Ozyrrandion

6th Day of Richfest. Skull Gorge Bridge. Early Morning

All the hobgoblins are slain. One last defender remains: the green dragon Ozyrrandion.

Valthurne was dying.

The green dragon Ozyrrandion stood over him ready to rip out his throat. His companions were too far behind to help him this time. His vision faded in an out and he was certain the last thing he would hear was the sound of teeth ripping out his flesh.

Ozyrrandion’s sharp teeth drew closer, then suddenly stopped. The dragon quickly turned away from Valthurne. Something caught his attention.

The green dragon glared angrily at the wizard at the bottom of the tower.

The wizard Iroel, himself barely able to stand from his injuries, hurled insult after insult at the green dragon in its own language. It was all he could to to draw the dragon away from his friend.

Ozyrrandion’s once lustrous scales were now stained heavily with his own blood. Several arrows and bolts jut from all over his body, a harsh product of what has been a long and arduous battle. He knew the strategic thing to do was to kill the human at his feet and flee. He could then return with more of his brethren and conquer these warm bloods and feast on their still beating hearts. However, his pride would hear of no surrender.

I am a dragon! He thought to himself. I will not be beaten by a band of pathetic warm bloods. I will show them to fear me!

Abandoning Valthurne, his dying prey, he launched himself from the guard tower and dove towards the wizard below.

“I will melt your skin off your bones!” he cried out, then took in a deep breath and prepared to unleash a seething cloud of acid upon the whelp.

The ranger Jorr was close by and watching. His hand was steady and patient. He knew it was a matter of time before the dragon emerged to strike again, and the taunting wizard was just the incidental bait he was hoping for.

Upon seeing the dragon emerge from the tower let loose yet another deadly arrow from his bow. His aim was true. The arrow took to the air and buried itself deep into the dragon’s chest.

Ozyrrandion flailed and clawed in the air as the arrow pierced his hide. Thoughts of fury and destruction raged across his mind. Then only silence.

The green dragon plummeted to his death in a resounding thud in the parched ground below at the foot of Iroel.

The green dragon glared at the wizard at the bottom of the tower.

Ozyrrandion’s once lustrous scales were now stained heavily with his own blood. Several arrows and bolts jut from all over his body, a harsh product of what has been a long and arduous battle.

I am a dragon! He thought to himself. I will not be beaten by a band of pathetic warm blooded creatures. I will show them to fear me!

He launched himself from the guard tower and dove towards the wizard below.

“I will melt your skin of your bones!” he cried out, then took in a deep breath and prepared to unleash a seething cloud of acid upon the whelp.

Jorr’s hand was steady and patient. He knew it was a matter of time before the dragon emerged to strike again, and the taunting wizard was just the incidental bait he was hoping for.

Upon seeing the dragon emerge from the tower let loose yet another deadly arrow from his bow. His aim was true. The arrow took to the air and buried itself deep into the dragon’s chest.

Ozyrrandion flailed and clawed in the air as the arrow pierced his hide. Thoughts of fury and destruction raged across his mind. Then only silence.

The green dragon plummeted to his death in a resounding thud in the parched ground below at the foot of Iroel.
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